


Eating With Morton's Fork

by gala_apples



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Forced Relationship, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korse's favourite form of torture is making people make choices they never would if they had a real choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eating With Morton's Fork

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt used:** _Party Poison/Fun Ghoul, right? And they're all into each other, but feel like they can't do anything about it 'cause they're all "ohh im in love with party poison but he's our leaaader" and "ohh I'm so in love with Fun Ghoul but I'm all supposed to be a leaaader" and the boys are dramatic like that so they piiine and piiiine for each other and Kobra Kid, Jet Star, Dr. Death, Show Pony, and Grace are all like "you guys are so dramatic just fuck already". Until they both get captured and are forced to do each other at gunpoint by Korse._ from anon_lovefest

“Why are you here? Aren’t you too good for us?” Ghoul hopes his voice is dripping with every ounce of hate he feels in his veins.

Korse doesn’t react badly to the question. In fact, he grins. On his bleached face it’s as frightening an expression as Ghoul’s ever seen. “Here in Battery City people have different chemical modifications as suit their needs. For instance, were you aware that those that work with waste take medication that make them incapable of smelling? Certainly they can’t enjoy meals, as smell and taste are quite closely linked. But they are grateful. I could list a dozen ways Better Living Industries helps alter people, but I suspect you wouldn’t listen."

Ghoul spits. Damn right he isn't going to listen to Better Living propaganda. He left Battery City for a reason.

"The one that’s relevant to you is the Draculoid inability to feel arousal.”

Fun Ghoul winces for a moment before schooling his face back to hate. He doesn’t like where this could be going. But sitting in a chair with leather bands around his ankles and wrists he can’t do anything about it. If he tilts his head back far enough the back of his skull can touch Party Poison’s, but that’s the extent of his ability.

“I, on the other hand, am taking a different cocktail.” Korse is slowly circling them. He's speaking on Party’s side now, out of Ghoul's range of vision. His voice almost worse when you can’t see the nightmarish face to go with it. “I’ve been informed that rape is demoralising. And truly, there’s nothing the Killjoys need more than to be pulled into the gutter where you belong.”

Ghoul’s suddenly grateful for being starved the last few days. If he had any sort of food or liquid in his body he’d be puking.

“Unless you can think of a better solution?”

Everyone in the room knows SCARECROW isn’t going to be getting any information from them. Ghoul would bet Korse isn’t even asking with that in mind. He’s a twisted fuck, a sociopath that SCARECROW was lucky enough to capture for their uses. Five years ago he gave Jet Star the option to run with Grace only if he killed her mother. Ghoul’s heard other stories too, ones that make that look like a walk in the park. 

No, what Korse wants is to make a deal. One that will break them more than rape would. And until this moment, Fun Ghoul would have thought there’d be nothing that could make him make a deal with Korse. He doesn’t have a daughter or a wife to worry about. Turns out he cares about his body being whole.

He hates himself for saying it. “What solution?”

“I won’t touch either of you, if you fuck your dear friend.”

Christ. Fucking Christ. Ghoul doesn’t know how Korse knows that he likes Party, when even out of all the Killjoys only Show knows. He doesn’t care how he acquired the knowledge. He just hates him for knowing with every atom of his being. 

There’s a small question in the back of his head repeating itself, demanding a portion of Fun Ghoul's already teetering phsyche. He can't help but wonder if Party Poison had asked first, would Korse have asked the same? It’s worse to be in his shoes, forced to be the rapist instead of the victim. If he had let Party ask would their fates been reversed?

He can feel his hair move, knows Party is trying to bump the back of his head. He’s not sure why he’s not saying anything. He’s pretty sure Korse didn’t gag him. Maybe he just knows that if he says something it’ll make Ghoul break down. Or maybe he’s about to break down himself. It’s hard to tell in this situation. He jerks his head forward. He can’t be touching Party as he says it.

“Fine.” He thinks he’ll never be able to use the word again. Not with what it means now.

It’s hardly surprising that when Korse circles around to him he’s got a pill in hand. It takes three attempts to make the dry swallow work, for the pill to go down his throat. Within minutes he’s hard. A minute after that Korse unbuckles the leather straps. It makes it worse, somehow, that Korse doesn’t even pull his blaster from its holster, just leaves it hanging like he knows Fun Ghoul won’t attack him. It makes it worse that he’s _right_. Korse will let them free after this, partly because he’s under orders to get all four or none at all, mostly because it’s funny to him to torture people like this. If Ghoul attacks him they both die. If he does what Korse wants they both live.

“S’okay Ghoul, it’s better that it’s you. I’ve always liked you,” are the only words Party Poison says as Fun Ghoul lines up behind him, not quite ready to cross the final line of shoving forward. Today is not the day to hear that. Only Korse’s presence stops him from collapsing in pain and regret. They could have had so much, had they admitted it before this.

“Better him than me? Oh, Party Poison. My feelings, they’re hurt! Though I suppose one shouldn’t get in the way of true love.”

Party trembles at the final phrase. The movement vibrates through Ghoul’s body. He wishes he had a chance to use his blaster. He would rip Korse’s skull apart and watch his brains splatter.

Party Poison is wrong. It’s not better. There’s no way this can be better. Now they’ll never be together. There’s no hope of ‘maybe, someday’, when he’ll only ever be able to remember this. Fun Ghoul lets the tears stream down his face as he pushes into Party Poison.


End file.
